


The Intended Anthology

by bluebellsandcocklesshells



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, M/M, Slow Burn, kids to adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 04:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6738514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellsandcocklesshells/pseuds/bluebellsandcocklesshells





	1. The Thorn

“Ouch!”

Castiel pulled his hand back and looked at the tip of his index finger.  It smarted, but he saw no injury.  Then a large, dark red drop of blood welled up to form a perfect sphere.  He stared at it, mesmerized by how shiny and perfect it looked sitting there on top of his finger.  Then the surface tension broke and blood ran down his finger, spilling out at, what was to a five year old, an alarming rate.

“Mrs. Winchesserrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” Cas screamed.

His kindergarten teacher was across the room in a flash.  Mrs. Winchester knelt next to him and examined his finger.  Then she picked him up and carried him to the sink as he sniffled in her arms.  The other children watched for a moment, and then they returned to their activities, attention spans maxed out.

“What did you do, Castiel?” Mrs. Winchester asked.

“I was tryna help the catter-piller out of his co-coon and the thorn got me.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed knowingly, rinsing his finger under cool water.  “What did I tell you about sticking your fingers in the butterfly cages?”

Castiel sniffed. “Don’t?”

“So, will you listen to me next time?”

He shrugged his tiny shoulders as Mrs. Winchester dried off his finger.  She shook her head with a fond smile as she pulled a medicated bandage out of her skirt pocket (she always had some on her).  Castiel Novak was the most endearing troublemaker she’d ever encountered in the eleven years she’d been teaching kindergarten.  There was nothing malicious about his will, but if he could go against the grain in any way, he was unable to resist doing it.

“Hey, Mom!”

Mrs. Winchester looked up at where her oldest son was poking his head through the doorway. The kindergarten kids went quiet—that was a fifth grader, the very top of the elementary school food chain.

Mrs. Winchester let out an expectant sigh.  “Yes, Dean?”

Dean sauntered into the room and Castiel partially hid behind Mrs. Winchester.

“I lost my lunch money.”

“Again?  I swear, if I would just let you go hungry once and while you might actually start understanding the value of money.”

“Yes, ma’am. But, I’m going to be late to lunch and Mr. Singer said he’d kick my idjit ass if I’m late to the cafeteria.”

Castiel stood unperturbed as Mrs. Winchester covered his ears and hissed at her son.  He understood that Dean must have used a bad word, but he wasn’t sure which one it had been.  Then Mrs. Winchester walked toward her desk and began digging in a drawer. Castiel looked at Dean.

“What happened?” Dean asked, as he nodded toward Castiel’s hand.

He held up the bandaged finger for inspection.  “Thorn.”

“Does it hurt?”

Castiel shrugged. “Not a lot.”

“That’s good. Even if it does, you pretend it doesn’t. That’s what men do.”

“I’m a little boy.”

“Yeah, I know, but…never mind.  You know what will make it feel better?”

Castiel shook his head.

“Here, give me your hand.  My mom does this for—I mean, she _used_ to do this for me.”

Castiel held out his hand and Dean took it gently in his.  Then he leaned down and placed a light kiss against the bandage.  A tingly feeling emanated out from his finger and quickly spread through his whole body.

“Still hurt?”

Castiel shook his head. Dean smiled.

Mrs. Winchester returned and gave Dean some money and shooed him out the door.  She turned to Castiel and put her hands on her hips.

“Well now, Castiel, do you think you’re ready to color with the other kids?”

“Mrs. Winchesser?”

“Yes?”

“When I grow up, can I marry Dean?”

Mrs. Winchester’s eyebrows shot up, and then her face melted into warm amusement.

“Castiel, I can’t think of anyone in Heaven or on Earth that would be fool enough to tell you no.”


	2. The Tadpole

“N-no!  Sam, don’t!”

“Relax.  It’ll be fine.”

Dean paused as he was rolling up the hose in the backyard.  Why the flowers needed to be watered when it was supposed to rain on Wednesday was a mystery, but if he disobeyed a direct order from his father he’d be watering the flowers with his tears.  Plus, if the flowers did die his mother would be sad.

The flowers were now thoroughly soaked, which was why Dean was standing on the flagstones by the spigot, rolling up the hose, and could only hear his little brother and his best friend, Cas, talking on the other side of the tall privacy fence.

“But, we’re not supposed to.  We’ll get in trouble.”

“We won’t.  I just wanna watch it move.”

“But…it feels weird,” Cas said, sounding like he was near tears.

Dean creased his brow.  What were the two of them doing?  He finished winding the hose and walked over to the fence to listen in.

“It’s bigger than it was,” Sam said.  “And it’s wiggling more.”

“Because you keep touching it!”

Dean pulled back and raised an eyebrow.  What the—?  Sam was only ten years old, and Cas was nine.  There was no way they were talking about what it sounded like they were talking about…was there?  But at that age kids were curious, and they hadn’t been taught that more than just strangers and adults weren’t allowed to touch them there.

“Ew,” Sam giggled.  “It’s all slippery.  Come on, feel it.”

“I-I…I don’t know, Sam.”

“Come on, don’t be a baby.  Just touch it.”

“O-okay…”

“Hey!”  Dean swung open the fence door, half-expecting to find one or the other with their shorts around their knees staring at…their neighbor’s koi pond?

“Dean!” Sam hissed in exasperation, still very much clothed where he squatted next to Cas by the pond.  “You scared it away!”

“Scared what away?”

“The tadpole!”

“We’ve been watching them since they were eggs!” Cas chimed in.

“Ohhhh.  Is that what you guys were talking about?”

“Yes,” Sam replied.  “What did you think we were talking about?”

“Uh…nothing,” Dean replied feeling sheepish and a little bit like maybe there was something to the stereotype that fourteen year old boys could only think about one thing.  “Anyway, you guys need to stop torturing that thing and come inside.”

“We’re tor-tur-ing it?” Cas asked, his voice wavering with tears again.

“Wha—?  No, no.  You’re fine, Cas.”  He pulled the boy in close to his side for a hug.  “It’s Sam, the boy with the demon blood over there.”

“Hey!”

“Come on, devil child, Mom was making cookies for her bunko group.  Maybe we can wrangle some out of her.”

“Sweet!”

Sam jumped up and ran for the house.  Rather than scamper after his best friend, Castiel was content to walk into the house—holding Dean’s hand.  Dean was always amused by the little boy’s attachment to him.  He was much cuter than his totally uncute, annoying little brother.

Inside the house smelled like chocolate chip cookies and peanut butter cookies.  Peanut butter was Sam’s favorite, so Dean was pretty certain they’d be able to finagle a couple since his mother had probably made them for him.  Sometimes he wished his favorite were cookies instead of pie.  It was almost impossible to get a free slice of pie that had been baked to be given to someone else.

“Oh, Castiel,” his mother said with a bright, fond smile.  “I didn’t know you had come over.”

“We were looking at the tadpoles!” Sam said helpfully as he eyed the trays of cookies.

“Hello, Mrs. Winchesser.”

Dean repressed a smile.  Cas still hadn’t mastered their last name even though his mother had been his kindergarten teacher for a whole year.  Plus he was in fourth grade.  It seemed like it was time for that particular speech impediment to have corrected itself.  But Dean still thought it was cute.

“I promised him cookies, Mom,” Dean said.  “Don’t make me a liar.”

His mother gave him a look.  “You are impossible and I don’t know why I put up with you,” she said—as she served up two warm cookies for each boy.

Dean helped Castiel onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter and sat beside him as Sam clambered onto the stool on his other side.

“Both of you boys are terrible.  I wish you could be more like Castiel,” she said with faux-wistfulness.  Or perhaps it was real.

“Nah,” Dean said.  “You wouldn’t want an angel and you know it.”

Mary gave him a smile and then looked at Castiel, who had chocolate smeared around the corners of his mouth.

“Do you see how bad he is?  I bet you don’t want to marry him anymore, do you?”

Dean rolled his eyes and ignored the vague warmth blooming just under his skin.  His mother had told them the story of Castiel asking for his hand in marriage a few years ago when he’d still been in her class.  She liked to tease him about it on occasion, but he was certain Cas wouldn’t remember what she was talking about.

“Oh, I do,” Castiel said.  “But my mom said I have to wait until I’m older.”

That vague warmth turned into a full on sensation of his face going up in flames.  He stared at the little boy and Sam groaned.

“Gross!  Why would you want to marry Dean?  He’s so annoying!”

“You’re annoying,” Dean shot back, pathetically, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Hmm,” his mother mused, “your mom’s right.  You are a little young right now.”

Castiel nodded sagely.  His mom repressed a laugh and wiped Cas’ face clean with a napkin.  “Sam, why don’t you and Cas go play in your room?”

“Okay.  Come on, Cas,” Sam said.  “I wanna show you my new Iron Man—”

“Doll,” Dean said smarmily.

“Action figure!”

Cas and Sam left the kitchen and Dean turned to his mother.

“Mom, you shouldn’t—”  He cut off as she handed him a spatula.  He obediently began to help her move the warm cookies from the baking sheets to a cooling rack.  “You shouldn’t encourage Cas like that.”

“Why not?  You might marry him one day.  You don’t know.”

“Mo~om…” Dean groaned weakly and leaned his arms on the counter.

“He is a very determined little boy and he knows what he wants.  I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

“Yeah, but, Mom.  You just said it.  He’s a little boy.”

Mary hummed.  “He won’t be forever.”  She gave him a wink.

Dean let his head fall onto his arms with a thud.


	3. The Car

It was shiny.  It was black and sleek and powerful.  It was also old and kind of ugly, but it was the most beautiful car he’d ever seen.  It was a 1967 hardtop four-door Chevrolet Impala that his father had bought him for his sixteenth birthday.  His mother had pitched a fit because it didn’t have two-point seatbelts or air bags, but his father had argued that an old American car was a tank and would rip through the newest Japanese 1991 models.  Besides, he’d only be able to drive it to school and maybe to run an errand or two for his parents.  His mother still wasn’t happy, but she didn’t take the keys away from him.

After a few weeks, he realized why his mother hadn’t taken the keys away: she basically wouldn’t let him drive it anywhere.  It got to the point that he would drive Sam and his friends around the neighborhood just so that he could drive it at all.

It was kind of fun having Sam and three friends in the back and taking that hairpin curve at the back of the neighborhood where the houses were still wooden frames, watching them crush against each other like a carnival ride.  Except when Castiel was in the car.  He drove a little safer then.  He even let him ride up front sometimes, which was something he rarely allowed Sam to do.

One afternoon after Dean dropped Sam and his friends off in front of the house so they could go do whatever it was seventh graders did, Castiel hesitated before shutting the passenger side door.  Dean raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do you not want to go with them?  Are they giving you shit for being a year younger?”

Castiel shook his head.  “No.  I just wanted to ask you if you’d be willing to drive me somewhere sometime.”

“Uh…yeah.  Sure.  Just give it a little while.  My mom is still freaked out about me driving this car.  She barely let’s me out of the cul-de-sac.”

Castiel smiled.  “She just loves you.”

“Yeah, well.  I’ve gotta put Baby up, so you better catch up with Sam.”

“Okay.  Thank you for the ride, Dean.”

Dean laughed to himself.  “Yeah, anytime.”

Around two months later, the phone rang in the Winchester house.  They had all just sat down for dinner, but his mother was willing to answer it.

“Hello?  Oh, hi, Castiel.  How are you today, sweetheart?”

Dean rolled his eyes.  The kid was eleven.  That was old enough to not want to be called sweetheart by your friend’s mom.  Sam made grabby fingers at their mother.  She held the handset out toward Dean.

“It’s for you,” she said, failing at suppressing a smile.

Dean’s brow creased in confusion, but he took the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Dean.  It’s Castiel.”

“Yeah.  Whatta ya want?”

His mother smacked him on the back of the head and mouthed “Be nice” at him.  He made a face at her.  He hadn’t been mean.

“I need you to drive me somewhere.  Can you?”

“Uh…yeah.  Sure.  When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?  Well, we’re about to eat dinner…”

“That’s okay.  You don’t need to pick me up for an hour.”

“Well.  Okay.  Is it far?”

“No.  It will only be a couple of hours.”

Dean covered the phone and looked at his parents.  “Uh…can I drive Castiel somewhere for two hours after dinner?”

“Where?” his mother asked.

“Are you making him pay you gas money?” his dad asked.

Dean snickered at his father’s joke.  “I’m sure he’ll pay me in stuffed bees.”

John laughed and Sam scowled at him.

“Don’t make fun of his stuffed animals, Dean,” Sam said, sounding very imperious for a kid that was still a month away from being twelve.

“I’m not.  Can I go?”

“Where—” his mother started.

“Sure, sure,” his father said, waving a hand.

Dean saw his mother making an annoyed face at his father and his father looking confused as he chewed a large bite of spaghetti.

“Hey, Cas.  Yeah, I can drive you.  I’ll pick you up in an hour, okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Okay, b—”  Dean looked at the phone.  Castiel had hung up.  He shrugged and then dug into his dinner.

An hour later, he pulled up in front of Castiel’s house with his Impala.  He’d not said goodbye to his mother when he’d left because he knew she would have made him take the Toyota.  He went up to the medium-sized Colonial style house and knocked on the red door.  Castiel’s mother answered.

“Uh…Hi, Mrs. Novak.  Castiel wanted me to drive him somewhere?”

“I’m so sorry if he’s bothering you.  He kept saying that you didn’t mind.”

“I don’t.  Is it okay if we’re out for a couple of hours?  It’s almost seven.”

“It’s Saturday.  I trust you.  Just bring him back when he’s done with whatever he’s planning on doing.  Castiel!” she called up the stairs.  “Dean is here!”

“Coming,” came the faint reply.

Mrs. Novak looked back at Dean and gave him a wry smile.  “Five other children and none of them are nearly as strange.”

Dean smiled, but didn’t know how to respond to that.

Castiel came thundering down the stairs like a wild animal.  At least he behaved like a normal kid in some ways.

“Hi, Dean!”

“Hey, Cas.  Ready?”

“Yes!”

They walked out to the car and Dean helped him buckle his seatbelt.  Then he started the car and drove out of the neighborhood.

“So, where are we going?”

Castiel handed him a slip of paper with an address.  Dean wasn’t entirely sure where it was, but he knew where that street crossed Sycamore.  He’d probably be able to figure it out from there.  Once he was on Hollow Creek Road and counting down the numbers on the stores, he realized what the address must be.  Within a few minutes they followed the curve in the road into a large clearing in the woods.

“Uh, Cas…”

“Yes?”

“You know this is the drive-in movie theater, right?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Cas.  Do you know what people do at drive-ins?”

“They watch movies.”

Dean smiled and turned his head so that Castiel wouldn’t see him roll his eyes.  He was so naïve.  But also cute.  He’d watch a movie with him.  Besides, the Impala was made for going to drive-ins.  He bought tickets and snacks, and then drove to a spot toward the front so that Cas wouldn’t be able to see into the other cars.  There weren’t a ton of people present, but from what he could see people were already getting busy even though the movie hadn’t started and it wasn’t full dark yet.

It was a little weird to be at a drive-in movie with an eleven year old, but Castiel was happily munching on the popcorn he’d bought him and seemed oblivious to it all.  The movie was an old black and white horror film.  It was more campy than scary, and Castiel was staring straight ahead seemingly unphased by the slinking monster, but Dean wanted to make sure he was okay.

“Hey, Cas, you’re not scared are you?”

“No, Dean.”

“Oh.  Do you like these kinds of movies?”

“Not really.”

Dean let out a small laugh.  “So…why did you want to come here and not to a regular theater to see a movie you want to see?”

Castiel bit off a piece of Red Vine and offered the package to Dean.  He accepted.

“Mom said that her first date with Dad was to this movie theater.”

Dean choked on his Red Vine.   _Whaaaaat?_

“C-Cas.  Do you think _this_ is a date?”

“Of course.  Mom says I can’t get married to someone if I’ve never been on a date with him.  So, we have to go on at least one date.”

Dean was amused by Castiel’s reasoning, but he was also flushed with mild embarrassment because apparently he was on a date with his kid brother’s friend.  Moreover, they were back to the whole marriage thing.  It very rarely came up, so Dean usually forgot about it, but apparently Castiel still thought he wanted to marry him.

“Cas, can I ask you why you want to marry me?”

“The same reason everybody gets married.”

Dean raised an eyebrow.  Castiel finally looked away from the screen and met his eyes.

“I love you.”

_Whaaaaaaaaaat?!_

Dean felt a little dizzy because there was so much blood rushing to his face.  This was so embarrassing.  He was going to have to try to reason with this kid.  Simply telling him that he was a kid and didn’t know what he was talking about wouldn’t dissuade him.  Nor would Dean want to be that harsh with him.  He was a sweet kid.

“Okay, Cas.  Why do you think you love me?”

“I don’t think.  I know how I feel.”

“Okay.  How do you know?”

Castiel pulled the Red Vines apart and began to braid them together as he spoke.

“Mom says loving Dad is like feeling a tingly thrill go through her every time they touch—and that’s why she married him.  So, since we tingled, we should get married.”

Dean turned away to place his warm forehead on the cool glass of the driver’s window, but almost knocked the speaker off the windowsill as he forgot that the window was rolled down.  Good lord, when had he ever made Cas _tingle_?

Still facing out the window, appreciating the cool breeze on his warm cheeks, he asked, “When did we…tingle?”

“When I hurt my finger in kindergarten, you kissed it and I felt tingly.”

Dean turned around, some of his embarrassment fading with confusion.  He didn’t even remember what Castiel was talking about.  He had some vague memories of dropping in on his mother’s kindergarten classes when he’d been in elementary school, but did he go around kissing kid’s hurt fingers?  Maybe.  Cas was a cute kid and it’s what his mother used to do for him.  He had better explain to Cas what “kissing a boo-boo” was all about.

“Is that all?” Dean asked, forcing a laugh.  “Cas, that’s not love.  All people feel that.  It’s why there’s the expression ‘kiss it to make it feel better.’  Because it works.  It involves science and psychology and nerve endings and stuff.  So, you know, it’s a normal reaction, but it doesn’t mean love.  It’s a different kind of tingle.”

“Oh.”  Castiel bit into his braided Red Vine.

“So, now that we’ve cleared that up, we don’t need to date because we don’t need to get married, right?”

Dean took a sip of the monster soda they were sharing, feeling smug about handling the issue without hurting the kid’s feelings.

“Not necessarily,” Castiel said thoughtfully, reaching out for the soda.  He had to use two hands to hold it.  “You should give me a real kiss.”

_Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!_  Thank goodness he’d finished swallowing so he didn’t pull a full on spit take all over his steering wheel.

“No way!”

“If you do it, and we don’t tingle, then we’ll both know.  And I’ll leave you alone.”

“Cas…”  Dean rubbed his forehead.  This was getting out of hand.  “I don’t mind you hanging out with me sometimes.  I do like you.  You’re not a pest; I don’t want you to think that.”

“But…you don’t want to marry me?”

Dean’s chest pinged with sympathy.  He’d never heard Castiel sound so sad before.

“I…”  Dean trailed off.

Why couldn’t he say no?  He really didn’t want to break an eleven year old’s heart, that’s why.  So, he decided to use Cas’ logic against him.

“Alright.  I’ll do it.”  Castiel perked up.  “But never, _ever_ tell anyone.”  He stuck a finger in Castiel’s face.  “I mean it.  No one.”

Cas nodded.  “Okay.  Promise.”

Dean looked around nervously, but it was really dark out and he couldn’t see into other people’s cars anymore so that must mean they couldn’t see into his, right?  He inhaled deeply to calm himself down and then faced the little boy.  This was so messed up.  Castiel set the soda down on the floor and turned toward him expectantly.  Shit.  He might as well just get it over with.

Dean leaned over and quickly pecked Cas on the lips.

He pulled back and massaged one temple with his hand.  That’s it.  He was going to jail.  Then he moved his hand and rubbed his lips because they felt a little…his eyes widened.  He turned to look at Castiel.

“Well?”

“It was very tingly,” Cas said.  “We should definitely get married.”

Dean laughed helplessly and covered his eyes with a hand as he leaned against the driver’s door.  His lips still kind of tingled.

_Brilliant plan, Winchester._


	4. The T-Shirt

Cas tossed the Nerf basketball up into the air and caught it.  He repeated the motion three times until he was bored.  He was lying on Sam’s bed, waiting for him to finish wrapping a gift for his mother.  He threw the ball toward the ceiling, but missed it when it came back down.  It rolled out of his reach.

“Are you going to ask Madison to Winter Formal?” Cas asked.

“Don’t know.  Maybe.  You gonna ask anyone to the Winter ‘Party’?”

Castiel made a face at the name.  They couldn’t call it a “dance” at middle school anymore because a couple of parents had claimed that encouraged early dating and underage sex.

“Don’t know.  Probably not.”

“What did you get on Singer’s midterm?”

Castiel sighed.  “A ninety.”

“Last year I got an eighty-four, stop complaining.”

“He grades too harshly.”

“Tell him that.”

“Pass.  So…does your family have any plans for Christmas?”

“Same old, same old,” Sam sighed.  “Christmas Lights Hayride thingie, Christmas Eve party at my parents’ friend’s house, presents, too many candy canes.  You?”

“Midnight mass.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah.”  Cas picked at the bedspread.  “So…Dean’s coming home, right?”

Sam stopped wrapping and turned around in his chair, hooking an arm over the back.  He smirked at Cas.

“There it is.”

“Shut-up,” he mumbled.  “It’s a legitimate question.  He didn’t come home for fall break or Thanksgiving break.”

Sam laughed and turned back to his desk.  “Yes, he’s coming home tomorrow.  For two whole weeks.”

“Are you guys doing anything for his birthday?  He’ll be nineteen, you know.”

“Yes,” Sam said dryly.  “I do know how old my brother is.  But, he’ll be back at school by then.  So, we’ll probably just send a care package in the mail.”

“Does he like school?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?  You have his email.”

Cas shrugged.  “I don’t want to bother him.”

Sam snickered.  “You’re his fiancé, right?  You won’t be bothering him.”

Castiel blushed hard and threw a pillow at Sam.  It hit him square in the back of his head since he didn’t see it coming.

“Hey!”

“Will you shut up about that?  It’s so embarrassing,” Cas groaned.

“Why is it embarrassing _now_?  You’ve been saying you were going to marry Dean since kindergarten.”

“Yeah, and now I’m old enough to know how silly and childish that was.  That it was just make believe.”

“Yeah, but…you didn’t think it was make believe.”

Castiel turned over to hide his steaming face in the sheets.

“Just because you fell in love when you were five, doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t real,” Sam piled on.

“I should go home,” Castiel said, sitting up.

“Oh, come on, I’m sorry.  I was teasing.  I’ll stop.”

“No, it’s not that.  I’ve been here for like six hours and my mom says I spend too much time here.  That I annoy you guys.  And she’s always like, ‘Don’t you have other friends?’  And I’m like, yeah I have other friends, but why can’t I choose to spend my time with my best friend?”

“I’m—I’m your best friend?”

Anyone else and the comment would have been sarcastic.  With Sam, he was genuinely touched.

“Yeah, you dork.  You are.”

“You’re my best friend too.  And one day, you’ll be my best brother-in-law!”

Castiel groaned loudly and threw the other pillow at Sam.  “I’m leaving.”

Sam grinned.  “Okay.  My mom’ll probably call your mom soon to set up a time for the Christmas Lights Hayride thing.  You can snuggle up with Dean!”

Castiel was already out the door.  “I can’t hear you!” he called out.

He walked down the stairs and picked up his hoodie from the hook by the front door.  Mrs. Winchester stuck her head out of the kitchen, her hands were covered in some kind of dough.

“Are you leaving, Castiel?”

“Yeah, I need to get home for dinner.”

“Okay.  I’d give you a hug, but…”  She held up her sticky hands.

“Jesus, Mom!” Sam yelled from upstairs.  “You’ll probably see him tomorrow too.  You don’t have to hug him every time he leaves.”

Mary made a face but didn’t respond to her son, she blew Cas an air kiss and he smiled at her.

“Bye, Mrs. Winchester.”

“I miss when you used to call me Mrs. Winchesser.”

Cas ducked his head.  “Uh, yeah…”

“Jesus, Mom!  Let the poor guy go!”

“You mind your business, Samuel!”

Cas grinned and opened the front door.  He stepped out onto the front porch, pulling the door closed behind him.  A gust of wind blew past him and made him shiver.  He looked down to fit the ends of the zipper on his hoodie together and didn’t see the person coming up the front walk.

“Whoa, hey,” a voice that Castiel would recognize anywhere said.  “Heads up.”

Cas’ head snapped up and Dean was holding his shoulders to keep them from running into each other.  He smiled and Cas almost fainted.  Dang.  Dean was so beautiful.  So grown up.  So… _manly_.

“What are you doing here?” Cas blurted out.

“Uh, I live here,” Dean said as he teasingly ruffled Cas’ hair.

“No, I mean,” Cas paused.  His face felt like it was on fire.  “Sam said you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”

“Ah.  I caught a ride home with someone leaving earlier, and I thought I would surprise everyone.”

“Oh.  Welcome home.”

“Thanks.  So, have you and Sammy been behaving?”

Castiel smiled and shrugged.  “Would we ever cause trouble?”

Dean threw his head back and laughed.  Cas and Sam were notorious troublemakers who somehow never managed to actually get into trouble.

“H-how is school?” Cas asked, encouraged by Dean’s reaction.

“It’s good.  Fun.  How about you?  You’re in high school now, right?”

Cas shrugged dejectedly.  “Well, I’m in eighth grade, so I’m still in middle school.”

“Oh, right.  Bummer.”

“Yeah.  I miss Sam.”  Cas looked away, feeling dumb for saying that.

“Yeah, I get it.  I miss Sam too.”

Cas looked up.  “You do?”

“Yeah.  But don’t you dare tell him I said that.”

Cas shook his head.  “I promise.”

They stared at each other for a few nice but slightly awkward moments.

“Well,” Dean started.  “I should get inside…”

“Right!  I was going home too.”

“Okay, well, zip up.  It’s cold out here.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah…”

Cas looked down to work on his zipper again, and then suddenly Dean grabbed the lapels of the hoodie and pushed it off Cas’ shoulders.  Castiel looked up, heart slamming in his chest.  Holy-fuck-a-doodle.  Was Dean going to…

“Is that my T-shirt?”

Cas looked down—and nearly died of mortification.

Sam had asked him to go into Dean’s room to retrieve a DVD not long after he’d left for college in August.  He’d spotted a T-shirt mostly hidden under the bed, and he’d picked it up so that Mrs. Winchester could put it in the wash.  Then he’d held it in his hands and recognized it as one of Dean’s favorite band T-shirts.  In a moment of insanity and stalker-ish perversion, he’d taken the shirt.  He hadn’t even realized he’d put it on that morning.  Both Sam and Mrs. Winchester had seen him in it.  And now Dean…

“I’ve been looking for that all semester,” Dean said, still looking at the shirt.

Castiel was figuring out the best way to change his identity and move to Siberia so he would never have to see any Winchester ever again, so his apology was disjointed and stammered.

Dean laughed and pulled the hoodie back up onto his shoulders.  “Don’t worry about it, man.”  He zipped the hoodie up almost to his chin.  “I suppose my fiancé can borrow my clothes.”

He gave Cas a wink and then stepped around him and went inside the house, announcing his presence loudly to the occupants inside.

Cas stood dazedly on the walkway until the cold penetrated his bubble of warm, gooey happiness.  He let out a soft whoop and began running home, feeling like he was on air the whole way.  He opened the door to his home and swung around on the doorknob.  His mother started at the sudden intrusion as she’d been coming down the stairs.  She held onto the banister and put a hand to her chest.

“My word, Castiel.  What has gotten into you?”

Castiel shut the door and floated up the stairs, pausing to give his mother a kiss on the cheek as he passed her.

“Dean proposed!” he laughed, and continued up the stairs.

His mother stared after him, jaw open wide in shock and confusion.


	5. The Girl Friend

Cas stood outside the door to the Winchester house.  It had been several weeks since he’d been inside, and it had been months since the time before that.  He and Sam were still good friends, but he definitely had his reasons for staying away.

He was only here now because of Sam’s graduation party.  Sam was going to graduate high school in another week and head off to college and leave Cas behind.  A one year age difference didn’t seem like much until that huge gulf between high school and college opened up between them.  He didn’t think their friendship would disintegrate, but it definitely wouldn’t be the same.

The one bright spot in all of this was that Dean would be coming home.  He hadn’t lived at home after freshman year, opting to take summer classes and get a job to make some spare cash.  He had graduated college a couple of weeks earlier.  The Winchesters had gone to celebrate and come back with the news that Dean had gotten a job in a city over two hundred miles away.  He was never going to come back to Lawrence.

Cas felt hollow when he thought about how he might never see Dean again after today.  He’d barely seen him in three and a half years.  When Dean came home to visit his family, Cas couldn’t bring himself to accept Sam’s invitations to come over.  He’d emailed Dean a couple of times, but he was way too shy to do it regularly.

All because of that snafu three and a half years ago.  That little misunderstanding that had happened when Cas had waltzed in his front door proclaiming that Dean had proposed to him.  His mother had stormed over to the Winchesters’ house demanding to know what an almost nineteen year old adult was doing that made a thirteen year old kid think they were engaged.  She’d actually accused Dean of having sex with Cas and called him a pedophile in front of his entire family.

The whole ordeal had been frightfully awkward and embarrassing for everyone involved.  Once Castiel was able to explain himself—and that had been another layer of humiliation—his mother had apologized profusely, and then run out of the house with Cas.  As a result, the Novak and Winchester families didn’t socialize anymore.  It wasn’t because anyone was angry at anyone else, but Cas’ mother was too mortified to see them.

Cas and Sam had been fine, but Cas had been much too embarrassed to show his face to John or Mary Winchester.  After all, he’d been a rational (well, as rational as a thirteen year old could be) person and yet had still been skipping and singing about marrying their oldest son.  It was probably just weird and awkward by this point in time and no longer cute and harmless.  In full disclosure, Castiel didn’t even know if Dean liked boys.  He’d never taken the time to figure out if he himself liked boys or girls or both or nobody.  He’d just been so focused on Dean that he assumed his preferences lined up the right way.  He’d never bothered to find out if the same was true for Dean.

Really, he shouldn’t have come, but Sam was his best friend.  And it had been three and a half years.  Surely that was enough time for bygones to be bygones.  Cas rang the doorbell.  Mr. Winchester answered.

“Cas.  You’re early.”

“Yeah…Sam asked me to come over early.  I hope that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course.  And you can tell your mother it’s okay too.  The child predator hasn’t come home yet.”

Cas dropped his head and covered his face with his hands.  Mr. Winchester laughed and slapped him on the back.

“I’m just teasing, Cas.  Sam’s upstairs.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled and raced up the stairs.

Sam was in his room listening to some indie folk singer that he kept trying to foist on Cas.  He resisted his friend’s attempts to change his musical interests from classic rock.  He didn’t know why he liked it so much; it just made him feel good when he listened to it.

“Hey, Cas.  You okay?  You look a little…red.”

“Your dad reminded me that my mom is crazy.”  He flopped onto Sam’s bed.

Sam chuckled and moved to sit next to him.  “Sorry.  He can be an ass sometimes.”

“I think he’s warranted a little leeway with that topic.”

“No, he should just let it go.”

“Maybe.”

They talked for over an hour, mainly about what Sam was doing to get prepared for going away to Georgetown University.  He wasn’t leaving for three months, but it was the most interesting thing happening in their lives currently.  During a natural lull in the conversation, Sam rolled over to his stomach and propped himself up on his arms so that he could look at Cas.  Sam just continued to look at him, waiting, and not speaking.  Finally Cas rolled his eyes and looked away.

“How’s Dean?” he asked, annoyed that he wanted to ask about him so badly and that Sam knew it.

“He’s good,” Sam said.  “He’s really excited about his new job.  And he says that’s looking forward to living in St Louis, but I think he’ll get homesick for Mom pretty quickly.”  Sam sniggered at his brother’s expense.

Cas smiled and wondered what Dean might be like in St Louis.  Would the city be big enough for him?  Or would he need something even greater like Chicago or New York?  He was lost in a fantasy of bumping into Dean on a New York City sidewalk some day, the two of them then engaging in a ridiculous “Dancing in the Rain” number together, so he didn’t notice the odd look on Sam’s face right away.

“He, uh,” Sam said, “he’s also always talking about his friend, Charlie.  Like how cool she is and how smart and how cute.  And how he’s not afraid to do nerd things with her.  I think he really likes her.  He hasn’t said anything, but…we all kind of think that she’s his girlfriend.”

With each word, Castiel’s stomach twisted nauseatingly and his chest tightened uncomfortably.  He looked at the ceiling.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, trying to sound casual–-and failing if the waver in his voice was any indication.

“So that you’re prepared when you see them together.  He’s bringing her home to meet us.  And she’s going to be at the party tonight.”

“So?  I’d like to meet his friends.”

“Cas…I don’t want you to get hurt.  I know you still carry a torch for Dean.”

Cas sat up and swung his feet off the bed, putting his back to Sam.  “I don’t carry a torch for him,” he said softly.  He laughed sadly.  “I’m in love with him.”

Sam gingerly got up and sat next to Cas.  “But, you’ve barely spoken to him in almost four years,” he said gently.

“It doesn’t matter.  He’s been there for me when I needed him.  Like, when my dad had his heart attack, he called me and stayed on the phone with me for hours.  And he sent me an email encouraging me to stick with soccer when I got cut from the JV team freshman year.  That’s more important than filler everyday talk.   _He_ ’s just important to me.”

“I know,” Sam said, awkwardly placing a hand on his shoulder.  “I mean, maybe Charlie doesn’t mean anything to him.”

A couple of hours later, it was pretty apparent that Charlie meant a lot to Dean.  He had a constant smile on his face around her.  He laughed at all her quips, and more amazingly, she laughed at all of his terrible jokes.  She was friendly and very clever and everyone loved her, especially Dean’s family.  The worst part was that Cas liked her too.  They’d had a conversation about their favorite RPG’s for twenty minutes, and then he’d had to excuse himself and run off like a goober when Dean joined them, bringing Charlie a cup of punch like a good boyfriend should do.

Cas walked to the empty foyer and sat on the stairs.  He wanted Dean to be happy…but with someone else?  That was hard to bear.  He wanted to leave, but he knew he couldn’t before his mother and father made their compulsory appearance to wish Sam well, drop off brownies and a check, and then hightail it before conversation got awkward.  He sighed out loud, hating himself for being so melodramatic.

“Hey, Cas.”

Cas started and whipped his head around so fast his vision swam.  He closed his eyes to collect himself, and then opened them to find Dean leaning on the banister, smiling down at him.

“Um.  H-hello, Dean.”

“Uh, you know this is supposed to be a party, right?” Dean asked with a teasing tone.

“Yeah, sorry.  I was just…”  Cas inhaled deeply.  He should probably tell Dean the truth so that he didn’t have to feel obligated to tiptoe around his adolescent feelings anymore.  “I was just indulging in a morose goodbye to a childhood fantasy.”

Dean grinned.  “Didja finally realize you’ll never have a jetpack powered unicorn?”

Cas laughed.  “No.”  He looked up at Dean—and felt joy swell in his chest so greatly he was afraid it might burst out of him.  If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.  He sighed.  “I’m just finally letting you go.”

Dean’s reaction wasn’t what he expected.  He’d expected pity or relief, what he got was Dean becoming so startled his arm slipped off the banister and he pitched to the side a bit.  He righted himself and blurted out a confused, “What?  Why?”

“Why?” Cas asked with a slightly bitter laugh.  “Because I hardly think a pretend fiancé can compete with an actual girlfriend.”

Dean looked even more confused and like he couldn’t figure out what to say, and then understanding dawned on his face.

“Are you talking about Charlie?”

Cas shrugged and nodded, looking down at his feet.

“Hey.”  Dean walked around the stairs so that he was in front of Cas.  “Hey.”

Cas looked up.

“Put a space in that word you used for her.”

“What word?  Girlfriend?”

Dean nodded.  “Yeah.  Girl.”  He paused for emphasis.  “Friend.  Just a friend.”  He smiled cheekily.  “I’m not a cheater.”

The blush was instantaneous as Dean’ implication hit him square in the chest and made him feel tingly all over.  He stood up, finding himself at eye level with Dean since he was up one stair.

They stared at each other.  They were so close…as close as Cas had been to Dean since, well, maybe since he’d been thirteen.  Cas realized he was leaning in, but he could have sworn Dean was too.  He let his eyes start to slip close and tilted his head.  Then he felt a hand planted firmly in the center of his chest.  He opened his eyes and Dean pushed him back gently.

“I’m also not a criminal, jailbait.”

Cas let out an offended noise and crossed his arms in a huff.  Dean just laughed at him.

“Don’t worry, Cas.  The only one who can break off this engagement is you.”

He gave Cas one of his patented winks and walked down the hall to rejoin the party.  Cas was stunned, not sure if he couldn’t feel his heart beating because it was pounding so fast or if it had just stopped altogether.

When he found his voice he leaned over the banister and called out, “I hardly think kissing me when I’m seventeen is skeevier than kissing me when I was eleven!”

Dean just laughed and kept walking.  Cas turned around smiling, and then started violently.  His father was holding the door open for his mother, who was holding a tray of brownies with her jaw almost on the floor.

Cas cleared his throat uncomfortably.  “That, uh, heh, that’s not what it sounds like…”


	6. The Wedding

June could be wicked in Kansas, but it was better than the oppressive humidity of a summer in Washington, DC.  Cas was grateful for the reprieve, though he did miss the city he’d come to (surprisingly) love.  He’d been more than a little wary when Sam had suggested Georgetown University, but after researching it, they’d both decided to apply.  Sam had graduated in May, and now Cas had to attend his senior year without his best friend because rather than going to Georgetown’s law school, he’d opted for Stanford.  Literally across the country.  It sucked, but they were old enough now that they should branch out a bit from each other.

Perhaps that would put the swelling rumors around them to rest.  They’d shared housing for two years and were pretty much joined at the hip all during the academic year.  All their friends thought that they were in love with each other.  Or secretly banging.  It didn’t bother them, even though they repeatedly informed their friends that that wasn’t the case.  Sam belonged to Jess—a cute, sweet blonde he’d met his freshman year—and Castiel, of course, belonged to Sam’s brother, Dean.

Although that last part was a bit hard to prove.  They emailed quite a bit and spoke on the phone sometimes, but they’d only seen each other in person a couple times over the past three years.  Dean was busy with his job and Cas stayed in DC over most of his breaks to keep his internship at NPR.  Also, if one were to hear or read their conversations, there was very little to suggest that their relationship was even remotely romantic.  Castiel’s eighteenth birthday hadn’t brought about the change he’d been hoping for, though he supposed that was just as much his fault as Dean’s.

The reason he was back in Lawrence currently, enjoying the humidity free heat, was because Robert Singer was getting married.  Bobby (as Sam knew him) was a good family friend of the Winchesters.  Mr. Singer (as Cas knew him) had been the soccer coach of both the middle school and high school teams.  Cas had been his player for six years (a short stint of being cut from the JV team in ninth grade easily overlooked) and had developed a bit of a mentor/mentee relationship with him.  Mr. Singer was marrying Ms. Mills, the high school’s principal.  People had been speculating about them for years, but the fact that they’d been dating for a year only became public knowledge about a week before their engagement was announced.

A lot of former students were attending the wedding because Mr. Singer, and even Ms. Mills, had impacted them so positively over the years.  The wedding was going to be nearly three hundred people and Cas had heard from Sam that “Bobby” had been swearing up a blue storm when 297 people from 302 invites had RSVP’ed with a “will attend.”  Apparently they had sent the invitations out to be polite, expecting that the former students, especially those far flung to the corners of the country, wouldn’t return for the wedding of a teacher they’d had once in eighth grade.  Cas hoped this would help Mr. Singer understand how important he’d been to the all the students’ lives he’d touched.

The end result was that the wedding had to take place at a very large outdoor venue in order to accommodate everyone.  They’d chosen the Lawrence Botanical Gardens, and it was truly beautiful with cornflowers, daffodils, peonies, lilies, Gerber daisies, and sunflowers in full bloom.  Ivy and roses of every color and shade cascaded over brick walls, and the pebble paths, while perilous for those wearing heels, created the feeling of an intimate garden in the one thousand acre establishment.

The wedding itself had been a short affair with Mr. Singer and Ms. Mills saying their own vows, which on Mr. Singer’s part had been short, gruff, but ridiculously sweet, and then the two of them headed off for pictures while cocktail hour started.  Understandably for three hundred guests, it was a cash bar, which didn’t bother Cas because he couldn’t drink anyway.

He’d found Sam and his plus one, Jess, and they’d spent a good bit of time catching up with people they hadn’t seen in years after graduating high school.  Dinner was surprisingly good and Mr. Singer had learned how to waltz for their first dance.  Unfortunately, Ms. Mills did not know how to waltz.  It was amazingly awkward and funny.  After another hour of dancing and visiting the photo booth, Cas finally built up the nerve to ask why Dean hadn’t come.  Sam informed him that Dean was here—he’d just been seated at the table with his parents.

After that, Castiel “casually” cruised around the gardens, hoping to “bump into” Dean at some point.  Now the large venue was a bit of a pain since there were food stations and bar kiosks set up all over the gardens.

He was back in a quiet corner, only a couple of other people around, when he felt a strong hand encircle his elbow gently.  Cas turned in surprise and then nearly choked on his next breath.  Only through sheer force of will did he manage not to cough or gasp like a total goober.

Dean smiled at him and his knees felt a little wobbly.  Damn—he just kept getting better looking the older he got.  At twenty-six most of his prettiness had melted off and revealed a chiseled jaw line and strong, beautiful masculine features.  To Cas, Dean had always been beautiful and masculine, but now…now Cas knew that he was incredibly lucky that his sexuality did swing toward men because Dean was definitely a _man_.  And looked damn good in a suit.

“Heya, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

He let go of Cas’ arm, but stayed inside his personal space.

“So, um…can I buy ~~~~you a drink?”

“S-sure.”

Cas followed Dean over to the small kiosk set up in a semicircle of stunning blue irises.  Dean ordered a beer and then glanced back at Cas as he dug his license out of his wallet for the bartender to examine.

“Uh…I’ll just have a Coke.”

The bartender began preparing their order.

“Dude, sodas are free.  It’s not really buying you a drink if I don’t have to buy it for you.”

“Yeah…I’m just…only twenty.”

Dean looked perplexed as he forked over the five dollar bill for his beer.  “I thought you were only five years younger than me.”

“Hmm,” Cas intoned reproachfully as they took their drinks and left the kiosk.  “I should think that my _fiancé_ would know when my birthday is.”

Dean chuckled and they somehow found themselves on an empty path leading to a more secluded part of the gardens.

“Right.  June 21st.  The summer solstice.  Sometimes.”

Cas smiled.  “You got it.”

“I guess you’ve figured out that I don’t have a gift yet.”

“You are gift enough,” Cas said with a teasing tone.

Dean smiled and rolled his eyes.  He stopped when Castiel did to examine a short wall covered in red climbing roses.

“I wonder how they got them to grow like this?” Cas murmured.

Taking a chance, Dean stepped up close behind Cas, put one hand on his hip, and whispered in his ear, “They must have told them you were coming to see them.”

Cas’ lips parted, his whole body zinged with sensation, and the condensation covered glass of Coke nearly slipped out of his hand.  He spazed out in an attempt to catch the glass and Dean stepped away from the flailing.  Cas caught the glass and leaned a hand on a bare spot on the top of the wall.  He glanced back at Dean, blushing from head to toe.

“I would call you out for saying something so incredibly cheesy, but clearly it worked.”

Dean laughed.  “Did it?  I thought you were trying, very poorly, to backhand me.”

Cas smiled and shook his head.  He hopped up onto the wall, enjoying sitting in the spray of roses, but mostly doing it in case his weak knees gave out on him.  Dean stepped close to him and set his beer on the wall.  Then he took Cas’ drink from his trembling hands and set it aside too.

“How are you doing, Cas?” Dean asked to distract him.  He could tell that his mind was swirling around dizzily.

“I’m good.  You?”

“Very good.”

They remained still, Cas sitting on the wall, Dean standing in front of Cas, somewhat between his legs which Cas could _not_ think about.

“Hey, you know I just realized something,” Dean said.

“What’s that?”

“You’re old enough now that we should test if the ‘tingle when we touch’ theory is still valid.”

Cas was grateful he’d decided to sit down because he was blushing so hard he was getting lightheaded.  He pulled on every scrap of strength he had to look into Dean’s eyes and speak.

“Dean…I feel tingly looking in your eyes.  Hearing your voice.  Just being in the same room with you.   _Thinking_ about you.  I—”

Dean cut Cas off with a kiss.  It was like licking a battery or holding the end of a wire with a current running through it.  It was electricity and bypassed tingly altogether and exploded into sparks.

They pulled apart slowly, and then dazedly blinked their eyes open.

“Wow,” Dean breathed.

“You felt that?” Cas whispered.

“Yeah…”

“Dean…?”

“Yes?”

“I really want to marry you.”

“Me too.  I mean.  I want to marry _you_.  Not myself.”

Cas grinned.  “I got it.”

He shifted and then suddenly jerked his hand away from the wall with a hissed, “Ouch!”

“What happened?” Dean asked, sounding a little overly concerned.

“Mm,” Cas hummed as he sucked on his finger.  He pulled it out his mouth and examined it.  It wasn’t bleeding, but it stung.

“A thorn got me,” Cas said.

Dean smiled and took Cas’ hand in his.  Cas held up the injured finger.  Dean kissed it and made it better.


	7. The Honeymoon

Castiel leaned on the railing of the lanai overlooking the tropical beach.  He breathed in the fresh, lush air and exhaled in contentment.  Behind him on the kitchen table the laptop chimed with a Skype call notification.  Cas shuffled over to the table and took a seat in one of the worn chairs.  He clicked “answer” and grinned when Sam’s face popped up on the screen.

“Hello, Sam.”

“Hey, Cas.”  Sam waved at him.  “I’m jealous right now.  How is Kauai?” 

“It’s amazing,” Cas sighed without really meaning to sound like a sighing sap but accomplishing it anyway.  “It’s so low key and not very touristy.  The house is great and set along the northern coast away from the resort.  It’s kind of like having a private beach.”

 “So have you gone snorkeling?” 

“Uh…well, not yet actually.” 

“Oh.  Have you gone to Queens Bath?” 

“No…” Cas replied hesitantly.  “We haven’t made it there yet.” 

“Waimea Canyon?” Sam tried again. 

Cas looked up, avoiding eye contact.  “No…we, uh…” 

“Good grief,” Sam laughed, but he also sounded disturbed.  “Have you guys even seen outside of the bedroom?” 

“Of course we have,” Cas responded indignantly. “The view from the Jacuzzi tub is breathtaking.” 

Sam closed his eyes.  “Gross.” 

“It’s our honeymoon!” Cas responded.  “Can you blame us?  It’s been a very long time coming.  We deserve to enjoy it.” 

“Hn,” Sam hummed, sounding unconvinced.  A door slammed in the background.  “Oh.  Sounds like there are a couple of people who’d like to see you.  Kids?” 

“Papa!” two voices shouted as little feet thudded across the carpet of Sam’s living room.  The two children scrambled up onto their uncle’s lap and waved enthusiastically at their father through the screen. 

Cas’ heart melted and a part of him wished they could leave immediately and return home to their children. 

They’d had two via the same surrogate using their own sperm.  They had no idea who was the true biological father for either, though Grace’s blue, blue eyes and Jimmy’s (he’s not named after Jimmy Page, Cas, I swear) blond head were kind of giveaways.  Jimmy was seven and Gracie was five and it didn’t matter who had supplied the biology because Dean and Cas loved them with their whole hearts. 

Cas’ chest ached to be away from his children, but then he reflected on what had led him to being away from them. 

After Mr. Singer’s and Principal Mill’s (now known to him as Bobby and Jody) wedding, Dean and Cas had skipped the dating phase and announced that they were engaged.  For real this time.  They didn’t marry right away as Castiel still had a year of college left and Dean was working at a job two thousand miles away.  So they put it off for a bit.  And they put it off for a bit longer as Castiel was immersed in getting his PhD and Dean was busy working his way up from the bottom again as he’d had to switch companies to one that would allow him to be near Cas.  Then the opportunity to have Jimmy presented itself, and they couldn’t turn it down.  Fatherhood had been a bigger change than they’d anticipated, not to mention expensive, and marriage had just seemed like a frivolous formality they didn’t have time or money for. When Grace came along, they barely even joked about it anymore. 

They’d been officially together for fifteen years, surviving the hard times and thriving with the good.  Dean was 40 and the technical specialist for sales at an engineering company, earning enough money for a family of four to live more than comfortably.  Cas was 35 and a professor of archaeology, which afforded them the opportunity to travel the world when Cas’ work took him overseas.  They had two perfect children—no longer in diapers and both in school. They finally had a chance to… _breathe_. So, they got married. 

Dean came out of their bedroom wearing a T-shirt and shorts and toweling his head.  “Do I hear my angels?” he asked. 

The children squealed and Sam laughed as their wildly flailing arms nearly hit him in the head. 

Dean leaned over Cas’ shoulder and waved to his children. 

“Hey, guys.  Are you being good for Uncle Sammy?” 

“Yeeeeeees.” 

They had a somewhat disjointed conversation with the children from which Cas gleaned that Jimmy had made some sort of sculpture in art class and Grace had grown plants out of lima beans and a wet paper towel. Eventually their attention spans got the better of them and they wriggled off of Sam’s lap and ran off to the playset in the backyard. 

Sam watched through the window for a moment, probably checking to make sure no one face planted on the way to the swings.  He turned back to face the camera and tucked his hair behind his ears. 

“So, as you can see everything is great, so no worries.  And, uh, maybe today you guys should actually go do something on the island.” 

Dean patted Cas’ shoulders and gave his brother a shit-eating grin.  “I do something every day.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and sat back.  “And with that…I am done.  Enjoy your honeymoon.  More, I guess.”  He gave them a smile and ended the call. 

Dean wrapped an arm over Cas’ clavicles and kissed his cheek.  “So,” he murmured, “should we actually go out and do something today?” 

Cas hooked his hands on Dean’s forearm and leaned back into his husband’s embrace. 

“Yeah.  Maybe we should.” 

Later, as they lay tangled in the sheets and each other’s arms, Cas decided that they were going to have to come back to Kauai in a year and actually see what the island had to offer. 

Cas’ head rested on Dean’s shoulder, their fingers threading together playfully as they looked up at the slowly spinning ceiling fan over the king sized bed.

“Hey, babe, I just realized something,” Dean said ponderously. 

“What’s that?” 

“You’ve been waiting to marry me for _thirty_ years.” 

Castiel chuckled.  He turned so that he could smooch his husband. 

“And you know what, Dean Winchester?  You were worth the wait.”


End file.
